


this was not the plan

by mieraspeller



Series: AU Fluff 'Verse [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, F/M, Family, Fluff, Hugs, Kissing, M/M, Minor Violence, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-25
Packaged: 2017-11-15 19:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mieraspeller/pseuds/mieraspeller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek fails at hugs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. this was not the plan

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [Freyja](http://www.fanfiction.net/u/162626/Freyja_SilverWillow)
> 
> This is an AU where Kate existed and seduced Derek, but the Hales found out about her before she could burn down their house.
> 
> If you see any warnings you think I should add, please let me know! Thanks.

“Hey, it’s the Free Hug guys!” Scott says, and bounds away before Stiles even spots the crowd of bright t-shirts. He hastily shoves the last of his curly fries in his mouth and follows Scott, narrowly avoiding a stroller parked across the sidewalk.

“Dude, save some hugs for the rest of us!” Stiles calls after Scott, laughing as he watches Scott turn in a circle in a hugging free for all. He’s almost on the group when a lime green shirt materializes in front of him, and he nearly falls on his ass avoiding it and the dude it is barely containing. Seriously, there are muscles everywhere.

“Hug?” he hears, with only the barest inflection indicating it was a question, before a hand catches his wrist and is hauling him forward into a stiff embrace.

“Uh,” Stiles chokes out, before letting out a snort of laughter. “Dude, is this your first day?” He straightens up as well as he can, and manages to get an arm over the guy’s shoulder, but it only improves the quality of hug by _maybe_ 10 percent. Like, there are arms where there definitely shouldn’t be, and way too much, well, _gripping_ \- the whole thing is more like a grizzly attack than a hug.

“Loosen up, man, this is like being hugged by a sentient concrete wall.” He is abruptly let go, and then the guy steps back enough that Stiles can see his angry eyebrows and the rest of his angry face. Huh. Stiles had not known that _stubble_ could look angry. Lime green free hug guy sort of jerks his head forward and his nostrils flare like crazy.

“Sorry,” is what the guy finally grinds out, in what is basically the most reluctant apology Stiles has ever heard.

“Wow, okay.” Stiles rubs at his hair awkwardly. “Uh, no problem, dude. I get it, first day nerves, and you know, you could probably just sense that I would be an awesome hug guinea pig. Stilinski’s are historically excellent huggers. I could probably teach a class or something-“

“Derek! Don’t make me drag you back again. You’re supposed to be dispensing free hugs, not menacing teenagers!“ A girl wearing a hot pink shirt declaring her love of hugs jogs over and stares Derek down. Stiles tries not to be fascinated by the super angry conversation they seem to be having with only their eyebrows, before the girl’s eyes finally widen and she turns to Stiles with a grin that is actually pretty terrifying. Thankfully it dims down to merely super-happy-to-meet-you after a moment and Stiles returns it easily.

Scott turns up then, apparently having filled his hug quota for the day, grinning like a dork and bumping shoulders with Stiles.

“I’m Laura,” the girl says, holding out her arms in the classic ‘want a hug?’ stance. Scott grins like the puppy he is, and goes in for one last hug for the road. The lime green wall – Derek – just stares Stiles down.

“Right… well, good luck with the hugging, dude. Maybe consider some lessons, or something,” Derek gives his finger guns a disdainful look, and Stiles just laughs, because he’s been seeing that look from far more attractive but terrifying faces (he’s been sharing classes with Lydia Martin since kindergarten, come on) and it’s never affected his awesome moves before. “C’mon Scott, we need to go if we’re going to find Allison a present, right?”

Scott snaps to attention at the mention of his crush and he waves goodbye to Laura before leading the way back to Stiles’ Jeep. Stiles jogs after him. 

He only glances back once, and Laura is saying something which doesn’t seem to be improving Derek’s murderous expression. She also has a hand on Derek’s shoulder, like she could hold him back if he decided to take revenge on Stiles for insulting his lame hugs, while Derek is still glaring like Stiles had, uh, insulted his lame hugs. Oops.

“Damn,” he mutters, spinning around and jogging back before he could lose his nerve. “So, hey, your hugs don’t completely suck, okay? They totally have potential.” Stiles is trying not to bounce on his toes, or show any other signs of weakness, but Derek is huge and kind of intimidating, so he stays back a few feet in case the guy, like, lunges at his throat or something. Which is definitely not allowed in free hugging rules, but this guy seems like a rule breaker. 

“What would you suggest?” Derek says after a pause that was way more threatening than it should have been, and even then only after Laura prods him a few times. 

“Uh, practice? Can’t really do better than that. I mean, you’ve got like twenty people doling out free hugs right behind you, dude, get in on that.” Stiles’ shrugs, and waves off Scott’s impatient yell. When he turns back, Laura is looking at him like - okay, well if Laura was a lion, then Stiles is apparently putting off a wounded wildebeest vibe. “Uh.”

“That’s a great idea - what’s your name?”

“Laura.” Derek says in that same serial killer voice, but Laura just rolls over him. 

“Um, Stiles?” Stiles can’t help but take another step back when Laura stalks - yes, _stalks_ , that is definitely predatory walking there - towards him. Her friendly grin is not fooling him any longer. Those teeth are the opposite of friendly. 

“Would you mind helping my brother out? I couldn’t help but overhear you earlier, saying how amazing your hugs are.”

Laura is officially scarier than her scary brother, Stiles decides, and the resigned look on Derek’s face is only helping that decision. That is the look of a man without options. Stiles still has options though, options like Scott coming over to back him up. He glances over desperately, but Scott is staring at his cell phone like it contains all the kittens and rainbows in the universe. Fuck. 

“Laura.” Derek says again, softer this time and that resignation is all over his voice now. She seems to deflate, and tones down the wattage on her smile. 

“Sorry! I’m the one who dragged Derek into the whole Free Hug thing, so I guess I just feel responsible for him having a good time,” Laura says in the most fake cheerful voice ever. Stiles finds himself nodding along and then Laura is waving and wandering off and Stiles is alone with the slightly less terrifying sibling.

“Sorry,” Derek says, and this time it actually sounds like an apology. Stiles abruptly remembers every time Scott has tried to push him into asking Lydia out, and smiles at Derek.

“Eh, no problem. I understand pushy siblings - okay, not siblings, but friends who may as well be siblings, they are that pushy.”

There is a pause where Derek continues to say nothing, just stands there looking vaguely sorry for himself, and Stiles groans inwardly. 

“Okay, so I seriously do have to go, because my bff over there? The one staring at his phone like it will direct him to eternal bliss? I’m helping him find a present for this girl he’s been pining over - pining in a seriously gross way, okay, it has to stop - and her party is in about two hours.” Derek kind of jerks his head in acknowledgement, and Stiles thinks ‘what the hell, hugs, I can do hugs’, and says, “but, if you want to benefit from my epic hugging skills, I’ll be free tomorrow.”

Derek, once again, fails at responding like a human being, so Stiles adds, “How about, I give you my number, and if you decide you are up for some hug action then just text me. And wow, hug action, that did not sound the same in my head as it did out loud. Um, hug lessons.” He breaks off his train of thought when a phone is pushed into his hand. Derek is glaring off into the distance, but Stiles is wise to his ways now, and just grins and puts his number in and manages to hand it back without dropping anything. 

“Excellent. So,” Stiles pauses to pull out his own phone, that has been buzzing non stop for the last few minutes. “So, Scott has apparently been texting me because, and I’m just guessing here, but I think I’m right, he’s too afraid of you to come over. Which actually may be handy in the future.” He takes a quick step forward, and gives Derek a one armed hug because his face is really starting to depress Stiles, and says, “Anyways, later, dude,” before he runs over to his Jeep while Derek is still stunned by his hugging prowess. “Scott, seriously, man, I was like 10 feet away!”


	2. nature of the experiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek's family interrogates him.

Sometimes Derek hates being a werewolf. In a family of nosy werewolves. Like now, for instance, when he would really like to go up to his room in peace, and instead gets ambushed by Laura and his mother before he even makes it in the front door. (When those two are involved, it still counts as an ambush, even when he can hear it coming.)

“Where have you been?” Laura demands. “You disappeared after we talked to Stiles. Did you go with him? Do you have a date?”

He tries to brush past her, but his mother is blocking his path. She looks like she is dying to give him another one of her pep talks about letting go of the past or his guilt, or maybe even her new favorite, ‘It’s time to move on with your life, you won’t be young forever and you need to find a mate’, and Derek knows by now that it’s better to head that shit off at the pass. His mother was an unstoppable force whenever she went into work mode. She would give them assignments. Meghan had complained about it once, and ended up in an art therapy class for a month.

That doesn’t mean he has to be grateful about being interrogated. “No. He gave me his number.”

Before the words are even out of his mouth, Laura lets out a shriek that Derek is fairly sure could shatter glass, and jumps on his back. He rocks a bit, but he’s used to Laura’s random attacks, and even manages not to wince, since his mother is still standing right in front of him. She’s smiling like Derek getting a phone number from a virtual stranger is the best news she’s heard in her life.

“That’s wonderful, sweetheart,” she says, joining in with Laura in squeezing him. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Uh,” Derek says. Thanks to Laura’s big mouth, he’s fairly sure every werewolf in the house is now listening in, and he would like to not be made fun of by his cousins for the rest of his life. Laura jabs him in the back with her freakishly pointed knee, and he jerks involuntarily. “Thanks.”

“Let me know when you’re going to meet him! You should take your sister’s car, the Camaro gives a better impression than your Honda,” his mother continues, finally letting him go.

Derek hides his smirk until after his mother gives him another teary look and goes back the dining room, where the rest of his family immediately starts talking, like they haven’t all just been eavesdropping.

“Put a scratch on it and I’ll kill you,” Laura hisses, as Derek struggles away from her hug turned death grip.

“The things I will do in that car will never wash out,” he mutters as soon as he’s free, then books it up the stairs before she can retaliate.

“Laura, leave your brother alone!” their father calls, and Derek grins. Sometimes he loves being a werewolf.


	3. new old-fashioned way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles runs into Derek. Not literally this time.

It’s not like Stiles is sitting by his phone waiting for Derek to call or anything. He certainly hadn’t spent the entirety of Allison’s Non-Denominational Holiday Party growing steadily more embarrassed about offering hug lessons to Derek Hale. Nope.

Derek Hale, who, despite Stiles’ epic crush from age ten until Derek had left for college, he had somehow managed not to recognize. Yes, eight years is a long time, but it’s not like he’d changed that much, except to get improbably hotter. Derek, that is. Though Stiles would like to think that he’s improved a bit - less scrawny fifth grader, and more almost-legal-to-drink college student.

Fortunately, even a day later Scott was too busy basking in the glow of Allison’s admiration for his epic gifting skills – and Stiles was cool with Scott taking credit, as long as Scott knew that he owed Stiles free range on saying a bunch of embarrassing shit in his best man speech - to remind Stiles once again that Derek was a scary motherfucker in high school, and it didn’t look like times had changed much. It’s not like Stiles isn’t completely aware of that. Derek’s reputation had been a not insignificant reason behind Stiles’ crush on the guy. Nothing like imagining you have a hot older (boy)friend to intimidate all the kids who pick on you, right? Anyway, a guy who will let his sister stick him in a free hug shirt and let him loose on the world can’t possibly be as terrifying as Derek’s expression argues.

Plus, Stiles had told Scott that if he didn’t stop trying to talk him out of dating Derek, which wasn’t even a thing that was happening, then he would take back the awesome Christmas present he’d gotten for Scott. Of course, now Stiles was wandering downtown Beacon Hills for the second day in a row to find a gift that was epic enough to back up his claim. He’d passed the free huggers again, but hadn’t seen Derek or his sister, or anyone he’d recognized. 

So, of course, he runs into Derek Hale. Not literally, this time, at least. Stiles is stunned for a moment, because Derek Hale is wearing glasses. Not just, you know, normal glasses, but like, square thick black framed hipster glasses, which Stiles normally laughs at, but he looks good in them, what the actual fuck. Stiles’ life is not fair at all. Luckily his mouth has always been at least three steps ahead of his brain, so the lag between seeing Derek and greeting him isn’t embarrassingly long.

“Hey, man, how’s it going?”

Predictably, Derek is his normal taciturn self. He gives Stiles a nod. Not the most inspiring start, but Stiles can work with it.

“I’m going to assume that means ‘my day has been excellent!’ and say, great! I am happy that you are so excited about life! You never called, so I’m assuming you discovered a previously untold well of skill in hugging?” So maybe Lydia had a point about toning down on the sarcasm while talking to people that he may want to have sexy times with. But it’s a defense mechanism, okay, and it takes time to change a habit. Or Stiles could just forego talking altogether, but that’s never going to happen. 

Derek opens his mouth, and Stiles waits, since this will be maybe the fourth time that Derek Hale has ever (voluntarily) spoken to him. 

“Sorry. I’ve... been busy,” Derek finally says, face unreadable as always. Maybe he’s trying to let Stiles down easy, but there seems to be some sort of complicated eyebrow code happening. Stiles assumes that once he deciphers it, he will have the key to all of Derek’s hopes, dreams, and facial expressions. Unfortunately, today is not that day.

“Right. Yeah, no problem, I understand. I’m only here until January 5th, so as long as you know this is a time sensitive offer.” Though Stiles will definitely make the effort to get back to Beacon Hills more often if the reward is getting his hands on Derek. Um. In a totally non creepy way. 

“And speaking of time sensitive. I’ve got a bunch of presents to buy, still, and Christmas is looming ever closer...” Stiles says, because - as much as Derek’s stubbled, tight henley wearing, muscle-y self is working for Stiles, there is literal foot shuffling happening here, he is totally justified in wanting to be elsewhere. There is such a thing as too much awkward. Thankfully Derek manages to speak again, before Stiles does anything too spastic in the name of escape. 

“You’re still shopping for Christmas?”

“Yea, my buddy Scott, from yesterday? I’m looking for a gift for him. What says ‘you’re still my best friend even though we only see each other on school breaks and you keep ditching me for that girl you want to bone’?” Stiles pauses and mentally backtracks through the conversation, “And hey, there is no need to sound so disapproving, what are you doing out if not shopping?”

“Socks.” Derek says decisively. Then, more hesitantly, “Coffee.”

“You are being way too cryptic for me, here, I’m going to need another word or two.” 

“Socks? As a gift for your friend?” Derek says, deliberately, and man, he must practice putting that much disdain into everything he says. 

“Oh. I was thinking something chosen with a little more care, but actually, hey. Socks. I wonder if they have World of Warcraft themed socks? And Scott isn’t a big coffee drinker, I don’t think. He gets his caffeine via energy drink with a chaser of soda.”

“No, I mean. Let’s get coffee.” Derek nods towards the hipster coffee shop two buildings down. 

Stiles gapes. It’s purely involuntary, and he stops as soon as he realizes what’s going on with his face, but Derek’s expression is closing off. Stiles hadn’t even recognized how open Derek’s face had been until it wasn’t. 

“But! I like coffee,” Stiles says hurriedly. “We can coffee and brainstorm, it’ll be just like finals! But ending in gifts, rather than exhaustion slash death.”

“Or worse, expulsion.”

Stiles lets out a startled laugh at Derek’s quip. It was kind of lame, but Stiles isn’t going to judge that level of effort. He thinks there is a hint of red under Derek’s manly stubble, but Derek is already turning away, and Stiles decides that he won’t bring it up in case it makes Derek go back to his blank wall impression. 

“Should I tell you that you need to sort out your priorities?” Stiles says instead, and trails after him to the nearly empty coffee shop. “If you’re a Potterhead I think I deserve to know now, before this relationship goes any further.”

Derek gives him a baleful look and proceeds to ignore him in favor of ordering a mocha cappuccino. “And whatever he wants,” Derek adds, and stares hard at the menu board like if he doesn’t look at Stiles, he won’t see that Derek is totally blushing. Even if Stiles hadn’t been staring at him incredulously he wouldn’t have missed it. 

“You really -” Stiles’ mouth snaps shut under the force of Derek’s glare, and he shrugs. Free coffee, okay. “Um, a triple shot espresso with peppermint.” And at Derek’s raised eyebrow he responds with: “What? It’s Christmas, and I need fuel for shopping.”

Derek pays and pulls Stiles to the side, apparently back to his normally scheduled program of stoic silence and manhandling. Stiles tries not to fidget too noticeably, but Derek is just standing there and Stiles gets uncomfortable with people staring at him without saying anything. He peers over the counter at the barista stealthily, because he doesn’t want Derek to think that he wants to run away from their maybe-date, but he needs some caffeine before he actually jumps out of his skin. 

“The phrase ‘jumping out of your skin’ is kind of unnecessarily graphic,” Stiles says, a little desperately, and Derek lets out a huff of breath that might, by some optimistic person, be considered a laugh. “Right? Like, it immediately makes me think, how is a person leaving their protective covering of flesh behind a good fear response - uh.” Stiles cuts himself off as the girl behind the counter and the next customer in line give him scarily in sync grossed out looks, and he laughs. “Huh. So... how’s the hugging going?” 

“It’s only one more day. My sister said it was either this, or she would sign me up for an online dating site.” He looks pretty annoyed by that, so Stiles holds in his laughter and tries to make a sympathetic noise. From the exasperated expression Derek’s sporting, it isn’t very convincing, so he goes with his first impulse. 

“Wow, your sister is hardcore. If I tried that with my dad, I’m pretty sure he would have me arrested. I guess sisters get free passes that sons don’t.” Stiles is actually a little impressed, even though Laura has gained another plus 10 intimidation points in his mental picture of her. 

“My sister just likes trying to run my life,” Derek mutters, and Stiles doesn’t bother stifling his grin this time. He’s pretty sure he sees the corner of Derek’s mouth twitching upwards, but before he can make a more detailed study the coffee is up. 

It doesn’t take long for Stiles to realize that he’s not going to find Derek’s glare very intimidating after today. Not after Derek hands Stiles his mug carefully and takes him by the elbow to guide him over to the empty couch in the corner by the window. Especially not after Stiles does his impression of his freshman bio professor and it makes Derek actually laugh out loud. And later, after Stiles finishes his Christmas shopping while Derek smirks at him for waiting until the last minute, and Derek walks him back to his Jeep and lets Stiles wrest his phone away to send Derek’s number to his own phone, all the while with a smile on his face - well. Apparently ten year old Stiles had it right. 

Derek Hale is going to be an awesome (boy)friend.


	4. sneak attack dating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles calls Derek out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was beta'd by [the_ragnarok.](http://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ragnarok/pseuds/the_ragnarok)

“I know I’m a poor college student and all, but I can afford coffee,” Stiles says out of nowhere, once they’ve finally run out things to talk about, and Derek follows him out of the café. Derek feels his cheek twitch.

“Sorry.” He isn’t, but Stiles can’t hear Derek’s heart stutter over the lie from where he stops a few feet away from the entrance to smile back at Derek. 

“No, I mean. If I'm totally off base, just say so, but... that was a date, right? Like, a sneak attack date, but still.” Derek freezes, caught off guard, and Stiles’ eyebrows rise as he says, slowly, “Or, not a date, just a friendly get together. With inexplicably gratis coffee?”

Derek isn’t sure if wants to explain to Stiles that he isn't exactly an expert on dates. And there is no way he's telling him that if this _is_ a date, then it's the first one Derek's been a willing participant in. Stiles is like a freaking master in advanced conversational niceties, with his animated gestures, and his easy acceptance (not to mention his fever bright eyes, and his _mouth_ ) -- compared to Derek, who is stuck in remedial human interaction lessons. But Derek thinks he’s smiled more in the last hour with Stiles than he has in the last decade, so one more can’t hurt, especially if it makes Stiles’ heart start pounding even faster than normal. Unfortunately a smile doesn’t count as an answer, and Stiles is looking at him expectantly. 

“It was a date,” Derek finally settles on. It's less decisive than he’d planned, but Stiles’ grin somehow softens and gains confidence all at once. 

“Good,” Stiles says, eyes steady on Derek’s face, before he nods like he managed to read something telling from his expression. (Derek has it on good authority his face has surpassed Vulcan levels of inscrutability, but at this point he’s not going to discount the possibility of Stiles having some magical face reading ability.) “So, is this is the end of our first date, or did you want to--” 

“Yeah.” He can’t quite keep the eagerness from his voice. Stiles covers his mouth briefly. If Derek weren’t a werewolf he probably wouldn’t have heard Stiles’ stifled laugh. 

“You asked for it,” he says, and sets off down the street. Derek stares after Stiles for a moment, wondering if this is how dates normally go. He may not have a lot of experience, but he’s read books, and seen his family when they’re dating. Generally they aren’t quite so... abrupt. 

“Dude!” Stiles calls back, half turned, expression full of fond exasperation. “Let’s go, I’ve got like six more gifts to get and everything closes at eight!”


	5. sharing isn't always caring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Stiles play video games and Sheriff Stilinski knows all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've played Borderlands exactly once, so I had a friend look it over to make sure it the game related bits weren't completely wrong, and Freyja helped immensely with the banter.

“So, I saw that new Heigl movie with Allison yesterday,” Scott says. 

“Uh-huh. You know the rules, dude.” 

Stiles can practically hear Scott pouting as he says, “Fine, fine. Hey, you don’t know. Maybe I was gonna suggest you take Derek.”

“Yeah, sure,” Stiles snorts and kicks him lightly. He can imagine Derek at a romantic comedy and he’s so busy thinking fondly of the hilariously offended face Derek would make he doesn’t hear Scott warn him about the grenade he’s dropping and loses what’s left of his shield. Scott also steals the last slice of pizza, which Stiles had totally called dibs on when Scott had gotten killed by spiderants.

“You’re going to Lydia’s New Year’s Party, right?” Scott asks through his ill-gotten pizza, and Stiles cuts an incredulous glance to him. 

“Uh, yeah. Oh, here, revolver ammo. Not that you deserve it, pizza thief,” he adds. 

“You snooze you lose,” Scott shoots back. “Thanks. And, hey, awesome. I’m going with Allison. Back to Tannis?” 

“Yeah. I’m taking Derek. Aaand, that shock sniper rifle- motherfucking shit! Look out-” 

“Fuck!” Scott yells, and then they’re busy killing soldiers for a bit. Stiles is starting to think of the shaking controller as a reprieve from hearing about Allison, which is sad, because Allison is cool. Just, not so cool Stiles needs to know literally everything she has ever said to Scott.

“Do you think I should dress up? What if Allison dresses up?” Scott asks while they’re picking up the loot the Guardians drop. It kind of bursts out like he can’t hold it in anymore. Considering Scott’s been crazy for Allison since junior year of high school, and he’s only now dating her, Stiles can appreciate his restraint. But they’d already declared Borderlands a no-significant-others zone. If Scott keeps breaking their accord, then Stiles will not feel any guilt over reciprocating. 

“She has this really great red dress thing that -”

“Dude, I know Allison is like, an angel sent to earth to bless your sad loveless life, but can you stop for five seconds while we finish this mission?” Stiles grumbles. 

“Hey, I know you’re finally getting with your grade school one true love but you’ve almost died like six times, and I know that starry-eyed look isn’t for me,” Scott retorts, and Stiles lets out a surprised laugh. 

“Nice one, dude,” he says admiringly, and Scott bumps his fist with a grin.

“Thanks, man.” There’s blessed silence - well, at least only gun fire from the speakers, and occasional warning shouts from Scott and Stiles for the next couple minutes before Scott says around his last mouthful of pizza:

“Allison is an awesome howler.”

Stiles nearly hurls his controller in shock. “What?!”

“Yeah, she’s really great!”

“I’ll... uh, let you know when I find out about Derek,” Stiles finally settles on, because holy shit, if Scott is going to force knowledge like that on Stiles, _vengeance will be had_.

“You should totally invite him along if he is,” Scott says enthusiastically, and Stiles feels himself actually recoiling in horror. 

“ _Dude_. No freaking way! Are you crazy?” Stiles is staring desperately at his screen because he thinks if he looks at Scott right now he might do something drastic. Like duct tape his mouth shut, because holy god Stiles is going to have nightmares forever. 

“Dude, why not? Does Derek have a problem with me and Allison? Do _you_ have a problem with me and Allison?” Scott sounds incredibly offended, which, what, Stiles is the one who just had his boyfriend like, grossly propositioned by his best friend, he obviously has the greater right to taking offense. 

“Bu-wha-are you for real right now?” Stiles manages to stutter out. “The answer will always be no, on general freaking principle, okay, it has nothing to do with you _or_ Allison, jesus christ.” 

“What the hell do you have against bowling?” Scott asks incredulously. 

Stiles chokes. “ _What_?”

Scott finally pauses the game - probably because Stiles seems to have lost all of his fine motor control, and Scott has sent him so many disbelieving looks that both their characters are nearly dead. 

“What the hell did you think I said?” Scott finally asks, eyebrows scrunched together. 

“Uh. Nothing. I’ll. I’ll ask Derek.” 

“Dude. What the hell?” Scott asks, and Stiles can only avoid Scott’s (judging, totally judging) eyes for so long. 

“Just. Don’t mumble when you talk. I’ll ask him about bowling, okay, I’m sure it’ll be great. Can we just finish this mission please?” So he can go bleach his brain, Stiles wants to add, but that will just make Scott ask him more questions. 

Scott is still letting off that mortally offended air, so Stiles adds, “And take that shield,” because he knows that Scott can’t hold a grudge when he gets to take loot out of turn. 

They manage to restore ECHOnet and save, and are heading back to Tannis for the next objective when Stiles’ dad gets home.

“It smells like pizza in here!” he calls from the kitchen. 

Stiles exchanges a guilty look with Scott, who kicks the box under the couch, before he yells back, “I don’t know what you’re talking about! And you can’t have pizza anyways.”

“So, I had nice talk with Rob yesterday,” Stiles’ dad says as he leans against the doorway of the living room, and Stiles nods distractedly, because there is a group of Crimson Lance guys with a Badmutha Defender headed towards them. 

“He was wondering how long you’ve been dating Derek Hale.”

“Uh...” Stiles stalls, sinking into his seat. “Not long? Scott, watch your back!”

Scott lets out a yell and kicks the coffee table, then cringes and gives his sad puppy dog eyes to the sheriff. That hasn’t worked on either of their parents since fifth grade, but Scott never stops trying. 

“So that’s where you’ve been when you said you were out with friends the last couple days?” Stiles know that he gets his investigative skills from his dad, but it never gets any less annoying.

Scott dropped his controller hastily. “I probably better go, I’ve gotta get ready for the party.”

“It’s only six!” Stiles yells after him as Scott practically runs out of the house like he isn’t committing heinous crimes against their friendship. “Traitor.”

Stiles exits the game without saving, since he and Scott have played through it once already, and waits while his dad situates himself on the couch. He gets that his dad is doing the thing where he waits until Stiles breaks and spills everything, but Stiles has built up a tolerance over the years and he knows he wants to talk about this way less than his dad does.

“So, you and Derek.” His dad lets out a sigh as he says it. Stiles knows it’s not the guy thing because he’s dated a couple since high school, and his dad has always been cool. Well, as cool as any parent can be when it comes to their kid dating anyone. The only thing he can figure is the age difference, but Stiles is (nearly) 20 so it’s totally legal. 

“We ran into each other downtown and had coffee on Sunday,” Stiles says. His dad raises his eyebrow, and Stiles adds, “And we’ve hung out a few times since then.”

“Hung out?”

“Don’t use your sheriff voice, okay, I’m allowed to date people. There’s nothing wrong with Derek,” Stiles says defensively, and his dad smiles. Which freaks him out more than the usual over-protective dad routine, to be honest.

“I know there’s nothing wrong with Derek,” his dad finally says. “Bring him over for dinner Thursday. Now don’t talk to me, my show’s on.” He grabs the remote and flips over to some home improvement channel. 

Stiles stares at the TV. He thinks briefly about questioning his dad’s sudden interest in building cupboards, but honestly, he’d much rather watch reruns with his dad instead of having another super awkward-yet-supportive talk about Stiles’ dating habits. 

“I’m making popcorn,” he decides, and his dad nods and calls after him not to skimp on the butter as Stiles ducks into the kitchen. He thinks about calling Derek to warn him about their mandatory dinner plans, but decides to wait and tell him in person at the party. It’s easier to gauge Derek’s reaction when Stiles can see his face, and anyways Stiles thinks he can be way more persuasive if Derek doesn’t have the option of hanging up. 

Instead, he starts the popcorn and sends to Scott, _thx for having my back, ass. dad is making derek come over f dinner now._

 _hahahahahaah_ , Scott responds, then, _hide yr dads ammo._

Stiles groans. He hadn’t even thought of that.


	6. learning the script

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek gets ready for dinner with the Stilinskis.

Derek’s never been an easily intimidated guy. (The thing with Deputy Peterman at the movie theater doesn’t count. The man was stroking his gun and joyfully recounting how he had arrested Stiles’ high school boyfriend when the guy had tried to climb in through Stiles’ second story window. Stiles had found him twenty minutes later in the men’s room. But he had not been sending an SOS text to his sister, no matter what Stiles claims. They ended up missing the movie, but watching Stiles eat ice cream had been more entertaining than fake explosions.)

“You know the sheriff, why are you so nervous?” Meghan says from her perch on his computer chair. Derek pulls on another shirt and tries to pretend that he isn’t avoiding the question. He does not have any spare courage to explain dating to his kid cousin tonight.

“It’s different knowing a guy as your sister’s boss, and having dinner with your boyfriend’s dad,” Laura says, and then lets out a snort of laughter when Derek turns to glare at her. She stalks over and pushes Derek out of the way to start rummaging through his closet.

“That shirt looks nice,” Meghan says loyally. She’s always been his favorite. “And Stiles texted you again, he wants to know if you have any food al-erg-ees?” Or not. He takes his phone away from her, and texts back a quick response, before pocketing the phone. It may not do a lot of good, since Meghan’s been working on her pickpocketing skills (and why his uncle though that The Mummy was a good movie for an eight year old, he will never know). 

“It looks like he’s going to a club, not meeting the parents. Parent, whatever.” Laura throws a dark blue button down at Derek. “And don’t wear _jeans_ , what’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t own clubbing clothes,” Derek says, trying to tune out his uncle’s laughter from the living room. At least his parents and Mark are out, he doesn’t think he could deal with their oh-so-helpful input on top of Laura’s. He changes into her choices, because it’s easier than arguing and because Laura has done the meet the parents thing before. Plus, she seems to like Stiles, so she’s probably not trying to sabotage them.

“Much better,” Laura says, then throws a brush at his head. Derek snatches it out of the air and Laura smirks at him. “Go fix your hair. And shave, you look like a hobo.” 

“What’s a hobo?” Meghan asks, and Derek raises his eyebrows at Laura. She pulls an exaggerated frown and refuses to stop until Derek gives in and throws the brush back at her. 

“Nothing’s wrong with my hair,” he mutters as he walks around her, avoiding all the clothes she’s tossed on the floor. 

“If you’re nervous, just imagine how much worse it will be when Stiles has dinner with us. He’s just got his dad, you’ve got all of us,” Laura calls after him and Derek knows she catches how his pulse rockets. He has to take a minute to breathe again before he can respond.

“You’re never meeting him,” Derek says, and can’t even pretend to believe himself long enough to think that he has any choice in the matter. 

Laura pulls him into a quick hug before she wanders out, but he can tell she’s not in the least bit sympathetic. Probably because Derek had refused to talk to her husband the first three times they’d met. And now she and Uncle Peter are gossiping about him in the living room. Great.

Before he can finally escape, Meghan jumps up and throws her arms around his neck. “The sheriff likes you, and you’re awesome, so you’ll be fine,” she tells him seriously, and stares him down until he finally nods. He tosses Meghan onto the bed, stifling a grin at her delighted shriek as he heads to the bathroom. 

“Make sure you rinse the sink out!” Laura shouts. Derek rolls his eyes, and grabs his razor, the nice one he has to hide in the back of the towel cupboard so his brother doesn’t steal it, and shaves quickly. (It’s a little weird to see naked skin. The last time he’d bothered to go clean shaven was at Laura’s wedding. Their mother had taken one look at his tuxedo and stubbled cheeks and given him a look that had spoken volumes on her son’s grooming habits. Derek had slunk off to the bathroom without a word, and when he had come back his mother for her approval she had simply patted his cheek and ran off to check on one of the uncles.)

He can hear Laura and Uncle Peter laughing from the living room, and he grimaces at his reflection. It almost made him wish that Laura still actually lived there, instead of just lazing around the house whenever she wasn’t at work, so he could leave the mess in the sink and laugh when she had to clean it out.

“Just be polite,” Laura says as Derek comes down the stairs. “And try to talk like a person.”

“I know how to talk,” Derek retorts. He crosses his arms and leans against the hallway wall to wait.

“Like a person?” Laura asks skeptically. Derek restrains himself from growling at her. He’s not going to give her any more ammunition. 

Uncle Peter leans forward on the couch to look through the archway.“Do try to avoid monosyllabic replies. And no grunting. You’re not an animal.”

Derek opens his mouth to tell Uncle Peter what he can do with that advice, but he can hear Stiles’ Jeep is coming down the road and he has to run for the door before his family ambushes him. At least later he’ll get a chance to tell Laura that an eight year old gives better pep talks than she does.


	7. going off-script

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By the end of the night Stiles has more questions than answers. But at least he knows his dad likes Derek.

Most of Stiles’ fantasies about Derek in high school had been based on the few Lacrosse games he’d gone to when Derek had been on the team. And the one time in sixth grade when Stiles had seen Derek shove a kid against a locker for insulting his mom. Though apparently that didn’t happen often. It probably helped that it was well know in Beacon Hills that messing with one Hale was an attack against all of them.

This wasn’t something Derek could ask his family for help with.

“So how’s business been, Derek?”

Derek fumbles his fork and Stiles winces when it splatters into his potatoes. He’ll have to google how to get gravy stains out now, he thinks wildly. His dad is waiting for Derek to answer, and Stiles reaches blindly under the table to squeeze Derek’s knee in what he means to be a comforting manner, but just makes Derek jerk back in his seat. Stiles loosens his grip and his dad gives him the stink eye until Stiles puts his hand back on the table. 

Luckily Derek manages to remember his words in time to distract the stand-off. “Good,” he says, leaning back to meet the sheriff’s eyes. He nods and Stiles nudges Derek’s ankle until he grudgingly adds, “I just got a job redesigning Mrs.Samson’s catering site.”

“That’s great!” Stiles says enthusiastically, even though Derek side eyes him for it. So maybe when Derek had told him about it before Stiles had just given him a thumbs up and grinned around his mouthful of ice cream, but it was good ice cream, okay? Besides, the only time Derek could be persuaded to talk for prolonged periods was about computer stuff that Stiles could only understand half of. On a good day.

“Congrats,” the sheriff says, strangely satisfied. Derek looks at Stiles, but Stiles is busy staring at his Dad with his eyebrows raised accusingly. They will have to have a talk if his dad is doing anything that might jeopardize his boyfriend’s livelihood, but when Derek opens his mouth to ask, Stiles talks over him, launching into the story about Scott falling into the fountain downtown in Sophomore year.

After dinner, his dad asks Derek into the living room and says, “Why don’t you go grab a jacket,” at Stiles, raising his eyebrows pointedly until Stiles goes, grumbling under his breath. He runs up the stairs, grabs the first jacket he sees and creeps back down to the door to the stairs just as his dad asks, “So, how has Stiles been treating you, Derek?”

Stiles is a little outraged, to be honest. His dad is supposed to grill his dates on being awesome to _Stiles_ , not the other way around. Also, he is a perfect gentleman, which Derek can totally attest to. Derek can and he -- isn’t saying anything. He cracks the door open in time to see Derek doing his Bambi impression: big doe eyes, general air of bewilderment. 

And his dad, apparently worried that his only son has been, like, ungentlemanly to a man who is not only five years older, but also built like a freaking mack truck, says, “You let me know if he does anything you don’t like, alright?”

What the hell, Stiles thinks, when Derek just sort of nods. Before he can even come up with any reason, because what, his dad is yelling for Stiles to see his date home and Stiles has to sneak back up the stairs, then run down again to meet them at the front door. 

“Maybe you ought to put some dish soap on those stains before they set,” the sheriff says after he shakes Derek’s hand.

Stiles gives his dad another incredulous look before he pulls Derek out to his Jeep. 

“My dad just gave you _stain prevention tips_ ,” Stiles tells Derek, in case he hadn’t noticed the significance of that one weird thing in an increasingly weird evening. 

“Yea...?”

“The sheriff. Of this town. Whose son you are dating.” Stiles opens up the door to his Jeep and clambers into the driver’s seat with somewhat less grace than usual. Derek remains stubbornly unimpressed as he gets into the Jeep. 

“My dad.”

“I have talked to him before, you know.”

“Oh you’ve talked to him - you’ve talked to my dad, _the sheriff_ , before?” Stiles isn’t sure how to inject the proper amount of gravity in his voice, because for one, even he can tell he’s getting a little shrill, and for two, _what_.

“My sister is a deputy. You realize that right? He’s had dinner at my house.” 

Stiles isn’t sure how this is happening right now. He knows his face is doing that unattractive gaping thing it sometimes does, but he literally can not help it. And Derek’s freakish nonchalance is so not improving the situation. It doesn’t help that he’s still kind of reeling over clean-shaven Derek. He looks younger, and _weird_. Not bad, but different enough that Stiles had sort of lost control of himself when he was picking him up and had poked Derek’s cheek. He still had all his fingers, and he discovered that either Derek moisturized, or had freakishly soft skin, so whatever, he’s chalking it up as a win.

“Stop freaking out,” Derek says. 

“ _No_ ,” Stiles says, before he registers Derek’s tone -- he sounds kind of offended, and wow, insulting Derek and his family was not what Stiles was going for. He collapses back in his seat feeling suddenly very childish. “Okay, yes. Sorry. I’m done.” He starts the Jeep and signals and checks all his mirrors and generally does his level best to focus on using the excellent driving skills his dad instilled in him to ignore the extreme levels of awkward happening. 

They are halfway across town before Derek mutters, “It’s not like I could even do anything about it. My parents have cookouts for the whole department.” Stiles groans and Derek makes a grumpy noise. As much as Stiles would love to see the expression that accompanies what is basically the same noise a kitten makes when it’s woken up, he manfully resists taking his eyes off the road. Derek already pushes enough of Stiles buttons unconsciously and he doesn’t need anything else added to the list. 

“Really. It’s fine. I just needed a minute to get used to it, and yep. Totally cool now. But he’s not supposed to eat too much salt or red meat ‘cause of his cholesterol,” Stiles says instead, as casually as he can manage. He would really like to skip back to the non-arguing porting of their date. 

Derek is looking at him like he can smell the deflection and Stiles adds, “It’s not you, okay, you’re awesome, and your family is probably awesome, too. I just don’t share well.” And now Derek is giving him a pretty hilarious confused face that Stiles has to look over at because he needs that image imbedded in his memory forever. It is _excellent_. “My dad! I don’t share my dad well, okay? Like, this one time, I was maybe six? And he was teaching me how to play baseball, right, and he invited Scott over because Scott’s dad -- anyways, so Scott was over, and when my dad started showing him how to hold the bat, I threw the ball at Scott’s head and knocked him out.” Derek lets out a low chuckle, and Stiles tries not to preen. 

“So when you say it’s not me...”

“It is really, really not you,” Stiles says, managing to relax his death grip on the steering wheel as he turns onto the dirt road that leads to the Hale property. 

The rest of the drive is silent, but it’s not the awkward tension from before. When he pulls up behind Mrs. Hale’s car, Laura is standing on the porch, and she taps her watch. Stiles snorts, and turns to call Derek on his overprotective family, but Derek’s face is closed off. He doesn’t move, just sits there fiddling with the seatbelt, so Stiles shuts off the engine. If Derek isn’t ready to talk, they could be out here for a while, and gas is expensive. 

Stiles waits for as long as he is physically capable of doing so, before saying, “So, that wasn’t terrible.”

“No,” Derek allows, and Stiles squints at him until he cracks a smile. 

“So. Are we still on for bowling tomorrow? Or have you decided to change your name and flee the country?” he prompts and Derek does his almost smirk thing. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Derek slides out of the Jeep and disappears into the house before Stiles can say anything else. Or go in for a kiss, like he’d been planning. He’d been hoping Derek would be up for it, but obviously that wasn’t the case. Though it probably didn’t help that his sister was still watching. 

“Sounds great. I’ll just wait on my porch all day since you didn’t actually tell me when or even wait for a response, what the hell,” Stiles says. He’s maneuvering around the circle drive maybe a little more recklessly than he normally would, when his phone buzzes in his pocket. 

_tomorrow at 5?_

Stiles waits until he gets back up to the turn for main road to text back, _see you then :)_

On the drive home he mulls over the whole weird evening - first his dad’s weirdly paternal chat with Derek, and then Laura waiting on the porch. If John Stilinski is defending him against Stiles, who they all know would lose against Derek in an _unfair_ fight, well. Maybe Derek had changed more than Stiles had thought.


	8. attachment theory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek just wants his family to get off his case about Stiles.

“So this is getting pretty serious, huh,” Mark says when Derek stumbles into the kitchen the next day. Derek ignores him in favor of grabbing the milk out of the fridge. It’s too early to deal with Mark getting in on the new favorite family pastime: interrogating Derek about his boyfriend. He makes up his bowl of cereal, shoulders tensing as Mark fixes his coffee. 

“I mean, you had dinner with his dad. And now you’re doing a double date. And I could hear you texting all night. Sounds serious to me.” 

Derek shrugs. He only has fifteen minutes until his mom gets up, and he’d really like to avoid triggering a joint question and answer session. “I guess. I’ll let you know when I do.” 

Mark grabs the back of Derek’s neck when he tries to escape the kitchen and hauls him back to the table, pushing him into a chair while Derek tries to keep his milk from sloshing over the edge of bowl. 

“Asshole.” He glares at Mark, who just crosses his arms and blocks him from getting up again. 

“Okay, baby brother. The only thing I know about this guy is that he’s loud and he’s the sheriff’s kid. I’m gonna need more information than that.” Derek takes a defiant bite of his rice crispies and Mark laughs and darts in close to sniff at his neck. “Is that him?” 

“Ugh, Mark, shut up,” Derek groans, kicking at him. Mark dodges easily, still laughing. “I don’t know! We’re going bowling, not eloping to Vegas,” he says with a scowl. He can hear their parents getting up and he glances at the ceiling pointedly. Mark just grins and goes back to his coffee on the counter. 

“Mark, leave Derek alone,” their father says from upstairs, and Derek smirks at Mark until his dad adds, “And if you eloped, your grandmother would disembowel you.” He escapes back to his room to the sound of Mark’s mocking laughter, hoping no one else wakes up. 

The house clears out when everyone leaves for work and he manages to get some work done up until Laura and Erica drag him out to eat lunch. Apparently Erica has known Stiles since high school, so she keeps Laura’s attention from being focused solely on Derek. 

Erica even gives him a ride back to the house. Of course, she ruins all of Derek’s good will towards her when she follows him all the way back to his room.

“Don’t you have something to do?” Derek asks when Erica sits down in his desk chair and spins around a few times. 

“Nope. I’ve got like three more weeks until school starts. Oh! You should bring Stiles over for dinner before we go back to school.”

“Oh,” Derek says lamely, and tries not to let on that Erica has completely blindsided him with the reminder. School. That Stiles will be leaving to go back to you in a few weeks. And it’s not like Stiles doesn’t talk about it, he talks about everything. It just wasn’t anything that Derek had thought about. But Stiles is a freshman at a college three hours away, and Derek was just getting used to having him around. Erica is giving him suspicious looks now with every rotation, so he says, “That... sounds good.” 

She stops spinning to peer at him closely. “You look like you’re about to pass out.” 

Derek sits down on his bed and tries to glare convincingly at her. “I’m fine. I just. Need to get ready. I’m meeting Stiles.” 

“That’s not for like three hours. He texted me earlier and said that he couldn’t have lunch because Scott was having a breakdown over his girlfriend. You know, Allison Argent,” Erica says, crossing her arms. 

“Wait, Scott’s dating an Argent?” Fuck, he’s going to be on a double date with an Argent?

“Um, yeah. She’s basically been all he talks about since high school. And now that they’ve been dating a couple weeks, its only gotten worse.” Erica pauses and stares at Derek, eyes wide. “You didn’t know. Man, that sucks. Maybe you should talk to Stiles about-”

“What, tell him, ‘hey, so I’m a werewolf - actually my whole family is! And the Argents are werewolf _hunters_. We’ve got a truce, but I’d really rather not go through an evening wondering if I’m going to get a wolfsbane bullet in the back. Sorry for ruining our date!’” He doesn’t even remember standing and now Erica is giving him her least impressed look. 

“Yea, that sounds like an awesome plan. Or maybe you could just tell him something came up, and see if he’s busy tomorrow instead.” She stands, flipping her hair over her shoulder and planting her hands on her hips. “Stop trying to get rid of me, I can handle your repressed man pain. And don’t growl at me either, I will tell the Alpha. Margaret likes me better, and you know it.”

“I don’t have man pain,” Derek protests. Apparently people aren’t allowed to be angry, they have to have something wrong with them if they express their perfectly reasonable concerns. Erica is still looking at him disbelievingly, so he grabs his towel and stalks to the bathroom. Erica follows him until Derek shuts the door in her face. 

“You can’t run away from your feelings!” she yells.

“Stop watching daytime television! And stop talking to my mom, jesus.” He turns on the shower, hoping she’ll take the hint, but he can still hear her waiting in the hall. 

“Just move to Chico, it’s not like you have to be here to do computer stuff,” she says, and Derek groans. 

“I’m not going to stalk him back to school, fucking Christ, Erica, what is wrong with you.” He can’t even make it a question, because for a second there he was actually considering it. The thought makes him grimace into the mirror, even as Erica lets out an offended noise. 

“Hey, it worked for me!” He can hear her huffing outside the door, and he rubs at the bridge of his nose even though he knows its not going to stop the headache he can feel coming on. Great. Now she’s going to sulk, and she’ll probably do something to get revenge on Derek later. 

“I can’t even... just get out of here before I throw you out of a window,” he tells her, and breathes a sigh of relief when he hears Erica stomping down the hall. He’s not freaking out about Stiles going back to college, because that would be ridiculous. They’ve been dating for maybe two weeks. And he can deal with going on a double date with an Argent. As far as he knows, Allison isn’t involved in hunting at all. It’s only a few hours. 

By the time he gets out of the shower Derek has pretty much convinced himself that he can handle this date. The water is freezing cold, and Mark’s been shouting at him for the last fifteen minutes, but he’s good. He’s fine.

At least the ‘hanging out with a possible werewolf hunter for several hours’ problem overshadows ‘way too attached to a guy he’s only been dating for a few weeks’.


	9. bonds of friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott is the best/worst friend ever.

The buzzing of his phone next to Stiles’ head wakes him, and he stretches with a grin. He and Derek had texted back and forth for a couple hours last night. Derek’s reticence when talking didn’t carry over to texting, he’d been happy to find. 

He checks his phone, hoping for a ‘good morning’ message from Derek. Instead he sees a bunch of texts and missed calls from Scott. 

_allison cant go tonite_

_she says shes sorry_

_i think shes mad at me_

_are you still w derek???????_

_CALL ME BACK_

Stiles groans. He’d woken up in such a good mood, too. Scrolling back through his messages, he sees a text from Erica about having lunch. He sends her a quick, _sorry scotts having an allison crisis, how about sunday?_ Then Stiles sighs and texts, _stay calm. i’ll be over in 30 minutes_ , to Scott, and rolls out of bed. Not even his dad tries to wake him up before ten on school breaks. Scott owes him forever. 

It’s just hitting eleven when Stiles pulls his Jeep into the McCall driveway, and Scott is pacing back and forth on the porch. He looks like he just found out the world is ending. Stiles is really trying to be a good friend and not laugh, but its not the easiest task when Scott’s face looks exactly like it does in the photo of his four year old self on Santa’s lap. 

“Okay, tell me what happened,” Stiles says. After he herds Scott back into the house. The McCall’s neighbors are both gossipy and overprotective of Scott, and Stiles really doesn’t want to deal with any more ambushes in the grocery store from Mrs. Suarez asking why Scott’s been moping around. 

“Allison called and said she can’t go bowling tonight.” 

Stiles waits, but Scott doesn’t continue. “And...?”

“Dude, she cancelled on our double date! What if she decided she doesn’t like me? What if she doesn’t like you? I can’t date Allison if she doesn’t like you!”

“That’s really sweet of you, buddy.” Stiles laughs at Scott’s annoyed face. “No, seriously, I mean it-” Stiles starts, and then has to try and dodge Scott’s surprise tackle. He manages to get Stiles in a headlock, but Stiles has been fighting with Scott since they were five and he knows Scott’s fatal weakness. The ensuing tickle war leaves them hanging half off the couch, Stiles groaning in pain and poking gingerly at his chest while Scott fights to get his breath back. 

“Ow...” Stiles groans, flailing his legs weakly at Scott. “I’m pretty sure your high pitched shrieks punctured my eardrums.”

“Your stupid haircut gave me rugburn on my face,” Scott says, rolling onto the floor with a muffled thump. 

“It’s called - huh. Would you still call that stubble burn?” 

Scott is looking at him with Stiles’ favorite ‘do not want’ expression. “No,” he says, “and if you tell Allison I have stubble burn, I’m telling Derek about your crush on Lydia.” 

“Oh my god, that was in third grade, your threat is both outdated and ridiculous,” Stiles says, and rubs his hands all over Scott’s hair in retaliation. Also because he squawks like an angry parrot when Stiles does it. 

“Are you two still alive down there?” Mrs. McCall yells from the top of the stairs. 

“Uh, yes?” Scott calls back. His hand draws back and he jumps to his feet before his mom makes it to the bottom of the stairs. Stiles tries not to look guilty or injured, because the last time he talked to Mrs. McCall, he spent twenty minutes trying to explain all the reasons that he was totally a capable adult now. It hadn’t stopped her from telling his dad about the string cheese incident and a tickle fight probably isn’t helping his case. 

“Uh huh,” is all she says, disbelief plain on her expression. “I have to go to work. Don’t break my house.” 

“I don’t even know why you would say that,” Stiles says as he drags himself into a sitting position. “I’m here only in an advice giving capacity.” 

Mrs. McCall just raises her eyebrow skeptically as she goes. 

“Your mom is so mean to me,” Stiles complains, and Scott rolls his eyes. “And you haven’t even offered me a refreshment. You’re a terrible host.” 

“I’ll buy you nachos later. Just help me with Allison first!”

“Okay, okay, chill out, dude.” Stiles straightens up and puts on his serious business face. “So. Allison cancelled. Did she say why?”

“Something about her parents making a last minute trip to visit family?” 

“Dude.” Stiles raises his eyebrows. “She probably didn’t want to cancel, but you know how parents are. You’re freaking out for nothing.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Totally sure. And hey, you go to the same school as Allison. So at least you’ll see her after break.” 

Scott’s face is doing the sudden epiphany thing, and Stiles winces. Maybe that was a little more revealing than he’d meant it to be. “I’ll call Derek and let him know Allison can’t make it,” he says, hoping to distract Scott from whatever idea he can see germinating in his mind.

“Are you still going tonight?” Scott asks and Stiles shrugs. “We should still go.”

“Um... you want to go without Allison?”

“Yes,” Scott says, sounding determined. “I want to talk to Derek. If you’re dating him, then we need to get along, right?” 

“Uh-” Stiles says, but he can’t think of a good reason to tell Scott no, especially since Scott has his extra stubborn face on. “Okay,” he finally says, and, “You owe me so much more than nachos.”

 

When they get to the bowling alley that afternoon, Scott hovers around while Stiles tries to figure out a way to greet Derek without offending Scott’s delicate sensibilities. But all he can seem to focus on is the fact that Derek's stubble is back and he's wearing the henley-and-glasses again, so he ends up pushing Scott in the direction of the concession stand instead.

“I want nachos _and_ an Icee,” Stiles directs him and crosses his arms until Scott is done making faces at him and goes. 

“Hi,” Derek says. His eyes are darting around the building like he’s waiting for an attack.

“Are you nervous?” Stiles squints at Derek, and grins slowly. “You are. It’s just Scott, and trust me, he’s more afraid of you than you are of him.” 

“Ha,” Derek says, voice dry. But he stops looking quite so hunted, and even pulls Stiles into a brief kiss, so Stiles is counting it as a win. Of course, then Scott comes back and glares at Derek. It’s like a Pomeranian trying to intimidate a Great Dane, Stiles thinks, and then tries to stifle his laughter while Scott and Derek turn their glares on him.


	10. just enough to keep

“Did you have fun?” Stiles asks, hand brushing against Derek’s as they walk back to Derek’s car. He shrugs, and lets Stiles lace their fingers together. The bowling had been less horrible than expected. It had helped that Stiles was sitting next to him with an arm along the back of Derek’s chair, laughing while Scott and he had trash talked each other’s nonexistent bowling skills. Scott had dragged Stiles off for more nachos towards the last set, and Derek had even heard him tell Stiles that Derek wasn’t as scary as he thought. Which coming from Scott, was probably a compliment. 

“You’re smiling, so I’m taking that as an enthusiastic yes,” Stiles says while Derek is trying to come up with an answer that won’t make Stiles more smug that he already is. 

Stiles is grinning at him and not looking where he’s going, which Derek knows by now is a recipe for disaster. He tugs his hand free and ignores the whiff of disappointment he gets from Stiles before he pulls him closer and wraps an arm securely around Stiles waist. Purely so Derek can keep Stiles upright. He prefers when their dates don’t end with Stiles bruised or bleeding. Considering they’ve only been on six so far, there have been a disproportionately high number of injuries.

“Are you busy tomorrow?” Derek asks when they reach his car, and tries to ignore the tight feeling in his chest when Stiles practically lights up. 

“I’m free all day. Well, I’m bringing my dad lunch at the station, but otherwise I’m all yours. I mean, all... free. All day.” Stiles cuts himself off, and asks more calmly, “Did you want to do something?” His face is flushed but he’s still smiling. 

“Yeah,” Derek says without even hesitating. He’s got freelance work to do, and normally after spending this much time around people he has to retreat to his room and his work before he starts snapping at everyone. His mom would probably say that this is progress, but he’s pretty sure that it’s Stiles. The thought would have made him cringe a few days ago. Now, he’s just glad that Stiles seems to like him, despite Derek’s inability to tell Stiles the same. 

Stiles nudges him gently so Derek unwinds his arm from Stiles’ waist, but he makes an offended noise and grabs Derek’s hand back. Laughing would probably would not be a favored response, so Derek just watches him patiently until Stiles finally says, “Any preference?” 

Derek shrugs a little helplessly. He doesn’t know what people do on dates, besides movies and coffee, and they’ve already done those. 

“There’s not much left to do in Beacon Hills,” Stiles says. It sounds like he’s nervous, and he’s fidgeting with Derek’s fingers now, but he just seems… happy. Derek knows it in his bones, but can’t decide how. Maybe the slow, content beat of Stiles’ heart and the flush of blood just under the skin give it away. The corners of Stiles’ mouth twitch, then grow into a private smile. His pupils are dilated, but it’s dark enough out that it may not mean anything. Derek wonders if dopamine has a scent and thinks he should look it up, when Stiles tugs on his hand. Telling Stiles that he never lost Derek’s attention because he was trying to figure out how he knew Stiles was happy is not going to happen, so he just nods for Stiles to continue. 

“We could just hang out at my house. My dad’s on the late shift and I was just going to order a pizza. Maybe watch a movie? Or xbox? Do you play video games? I guess it would make sense if you preferred PC platforms and - anyways. What do you think?”

“That sounds fine,” Derek hears himself say and he snaps his mouth closed, teeth clicking hard enough to hurt. His eyes close in anticipation for the familiar wash of panic. For once it doesn’t come. 

Instead he hears Stiles laugh, say, “Awesome! Um, how ‘bout you come over around one for pizza. Is meatlover’s okay?”

He swallows twice to wet his mouth enough to answer, before he gives up and just nods instead. Stiles fucking beams at him. Like Derek agreeing to eat pizza and watch movies is going to top all their other dates. Knowing Stiles, it will. Someday he’ll figure out how that works.

 

When they pull up in front of Stiles' house, Stiles heart picks up. Derek feels himself tensing in anticipation for -- something.

Stiles takes off his seatbelt and opens the door. Closes it, and says, "Can I kiss you?"

Derek looks at Stiles' profile and thinks yes. He braces his hand on the seat and leans over the console, and -- Stiles starts talking. Faster than he had when he spilled coffee on Derek and had apologized for about ten minutes.

"Okay," Stiles says, without turning to look at Derek. He thinks Stiles is probably going for something like ‘gravitas’ with his expression, but it really looks more like ‘imminent death’. "Okay, so, before you answer, I, uh, I just want to say that tonight was really great. And I still want you to come over tomorrow, no matter what, so no pressure, right?”

Stiles is waiting on him to answer -- which seems to happen a lot with them. 

“Stiles,” Derek finally says, because Stiles still isn’t looking at him. His head jerks around, and Stiles’ eyes rake over his face, taking in what Derek thinks is probably a fairly exasperated expression. But he’s still hesitating, so Derek says, “Come _here_.” 

“I have to go over there?” Stiles asks, going from nervous to obnoxiously smug in seconds and Derek bites back a snort of amusement. Instead, he cups his hand behind Stiles’ head and reels him in. Stiles lets out a breathless laugh against Derek’s lips as he catches himself against the console.

At first Derek feels clumsy, tongue too big and teeth too sharp and in the way. It’s been years, and Derek’s just glad he doesn’t have to figure out where to put his hands - one still holding Stiles firmly in place, the other braced on the console between them. Their noses bump and Stiles tilts his head, his smooth cheek scraping along Derek's stubbled jaw. His lips part on a groan and some part of Derek files that away for future use. Right now, though, he's focusing on the heat of Stiles' body and the overwhelming scent of their combined arousal. The faint creak of a door opening manages to filter through his haze of _Stiles_ and Derek's eyes fly open. Stiles is slack mouthed and dark eyed, and he lets out a plaintive noise when Derek drags himself away reluctantly, gripping the front of Derek’s jacket in an attempt to haul him closer.

"Your dad is on the porch," Derek tells him as he glances at said porch, and Stiles freezes. His head drops against Derek's chest so his words come out muffled. "Of course he is." Heaving a sigh that Derek can feel fanning hot across his stomach, Stiles sits up and gropes for the door handle, flinging it open and leaning out.

"Go inside, you voyeur!" Stiles shouts and Derek can hear the sheriff laugh.

"I'm going to arrest you for public indecency if you aren't inside in two minutes!" he yells back and disappears inside.

"I was sure it was past his bedtime," Stiles says apologetically. He leans forward and brushes a dry kiss on the corner of Derek's mouth. "Sorry."

"It's fine. I should go. I'll see you tomorrow." Derek adds before he can talk himself into anything that might get him arrested and Stiles nods. 

"Sure you don't want to circle the block and climb in my window?" Stiles grins and then let's out a bark of laughter when Derek crinkles his brow, tilting his head like he's considering it. 

“I’d like to amend my earlier proposal and move to add more kissing to the scheduled programming,” Stiles says, breathless and grinning.

Derek feels a smile pulling at his cheeks. Leans over to kiss Stiles again, briefly, and tells him, “That can be arranged."


	11. some stories don't want to be told

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura takes Stiles out for lunch.

Stiles is still a little pumped up from the kiss, even after his dad creeping on them from the porch. He’s pretty sure his smile is permanent now, and he’s not going to let his dad’s long suffering sighs or weird smirks get him down. And Stiles isn’t going to let him eat greasy burgers and fries when they have perfectly good leftovers. The whole college thing has really put a cramp in his ability to monitor his dad’s cholesterol, but at least Scott’s mom is on his side. And he’s pretty sure he can bribe a few of his dad’s deputies to keep an eye on him. He’s got three containers of cookies carefully balanced in one hand, and he has to stack his dad’s lunch on top while he slides out of his Jeep.

“Hey, Stiles!” Before his tower of tupperware overbalances, a hand comes up to catch them. Stiles breathes out a sigh of relief and smiles up at -- Laura. Derek’s sister.

“I forgot you work here,” he lies, because it wasn’t so much forgetting as willfully suppressing the knowledge while simultaneously hoping he wouldn’t run into her.

Laura smirks at him. “I’m glad you’re here. You should come to lunch with me.”

“Uh. I was just going to have lunch with my dad,” Stiles says nervously as Laura takes the containers from him and walks briskly into the station. He trails after her, trying not to have impure thoughts about Derek - somehow, she’ll know. 

“Are all these cookies for him, too?” she asks loudly, and Stiles is a little proud that the sight of him, combined with the siren call of cookies, make everyone in the station surround them in moments. Laura is momentarily forgotten while he manages to extract a few solemn promises to keep his dad from fast food before handing them their cookies to do with what they will. 

“Bribery is a felony,” Laura says behind him, and Stiles wilfully doesn’t jump. Obviously Derek isn’t the only Hale with epic creeper skills.

“It’s not bribery, it’s... bartering.” Stiles takes the rest of his dad’s lunch from her, and hustles past to his office, shutting the door before she can follow him in. 

“Stiles,” his dad says as Stiles drops down into his visitor chair and pushes his stack of containers forward. He leans to the side to see Stiles, raising his eyebrows. 

“I brought you lunch,” Stiles says as brightly as he can manage. He tries for a smile as well, but it’s not very effective, judging by his dad’s skeptical expression. But that’s pretty much been his dad’s face since Stiles was old enough to talk, so he doesn’t take it personally.

“Thanks, kiddo,” he says, pushing his paperwork to the side. He doesn’t ask, just waits for Stiles to tell him. Stiles has never tried to seek out his dad’s approval about a significant other, but for some reason he feels like he needs it for this. Maybe because this is the first person Stiles has ever officially brought home to meet his dad.

“Derek’s hanging out at the house today,” Stiles tells him. It sounds a little more questioning than he was going for, but he is going to stand firm about spending time with his boyfriend. And possibly making out with him on the couch. He’s going to fulfill his teenage fantasies, and he will not be ashamed of it. He snaps back to attention when his dad pulls the top container open and smiles. 

“So you’re sacrificing your lasagna for that? You know I like Derek, Stiles. And you are an adult. Technically. You’re allowed to have your boyfriend over.” His hands are still hovering over the food protectively though, like Stiles is going to revoke lasagna privileges now that he knows his dad officially considers him an adult. Technicalities aside. 

And besides: “You yelled at me for kissing him!” Stiles says, shooting upright in his seat. “And two days ago you were lecturing me about my intentions towards him! How was I supposed to know you’d be cool with it?”

His dad just shrugs, mouth full of cold lasagna, and Stiles doesn’t pout, because he is an adult, damnit, but he really, really wants to. He slumps down in his seat and crosses his arms while his dad eats.

“Don’t you have a lunch date with Deputy Hale?” his dad says once he’s done chewing, and Stiles startles. 

“How-”

“I know all,” his dad intones, “and that includes the cookies,” and ignores all of Stiles’ protests as he shoos him out of his office.

 

Laura doesn’t precisely manhandle him into her squad car, but there is a lot of determined herding that Stiles usually associates with his dad during most of Stiles’ teenage years (Beacon Hills is boring, okay, and crime scenes are few and far between) and really dedicated sheepdogs. She takes him to the same cafe that Stiles and Derek had gone for coffee on their first date, and the same barista is there, staring Stiles down like he’s a philandering husband. Stiles orders a chicken panini and decides to let Laura start the conversation. Since she’s the one who dragged him here. 

“How’s school going?” Laura says, tapping her fingers on the table between them. And that, Stiles can do. Withstanding this sort of interrogation technique is something he’s had years of practice at, he thinks smugly as he smiles and starts talking. 

Detailing every class he’s taken so far gets them through the meal, and by the time their food is eaten Laura is looking reluctantly impressed. Maybe more by Stiles ability to talk coherently with half a sandwich in his mouth than by anything he’s saying. When he gets into describing the courses he’s hoping to get into next semester, Laura excuses herself and Stiles sends a quick text to Derek letting him know that he’ll be late getting home, and a slightly more frantic message to Scott, letting him know to call his dad if he doesn’t hear from Stiles in the next hour. Stiles doesn’t really think that Laura will kill him, considering she’s the one who shoved Derek and him together in the first place, but he likes to be prepared for all possibilities. 

“My lunch is over soon,” she tells him when she gets back, but before Stiles can breathe an internal sigh of relief, she adds (in what Stiles feels is an unnecessarily ominous tone), “so this will have to be quick.” Laura leans forward and Stiles tries not to shrink back in his seat. It doesn’t look like it would take much convincing for her to use her scarily sharp canines. “I don’t need to tell you that you’ll have the whole of our p-family against you if you hurt Derek. You’re not stupid. But Derek was... hurt. Badly. When he was younger, by someone he trusted, and who took advantage of him. So if you aren’t serious, then you should back off now, before Derek gets any more invested in you. Got it?” She stops, eyes narrowing further, like that is going to be enough to intimidate him. And, no. It’s not. Stiles crosses his arms and glares back.

“Okay, one, I’m not going to hurt Derek. I don’t just invite random people over for dinner with my dad,” Stiles says fiercely, and he’s too annoyed to get any satisfaction from Laura’s taken aback expression. “And two, I seriously doubt that Derek wants you telling people his business. Obviously if it was something he wanted me to know, he would have told me.” 

A surprised smile flashes on Laura’s face. “Fine. I’m glad we understand each other.”

Stiles thinks that may be of an overstatement, but before he can retort Laura jumps to her feet. “Come on,” she tells him, and Stiles glares at her back for another minute. Before he remembers that she’s his ride and he has to hurry after her.

 

“That was fun, we should do it again,” Laura tells him when she drops him back at his Jeep. Then she holds out her hand. “Let me give you my number.”

Stiles musters up a smile and hands her his phone. He’s trying to hide his _extreme reluctance_ but he must not be doing a great job, because he can see Laura smirking as she enters in her number and hands it back. 

“See you later!” she says cheerfully, and Stiles jumps out the car before he can say anything else incriminating. It really wasn’t fair, he thought morosely. Derek got off scot free from the sheriff while Stiles gets interrogated by Derek’s sister. He wants a do over of today, because Laura totally ruined the good mood he was coasting on. 

Driving home is pretty much a blank. Stiles makes it as far as the kitchen when his phone goes off. Scott just sent him a bunch of question marks, so Stiles sends back, _still alive, thx bro_. 

“Stiles.” 

Stiles yells. Or maybe shrieks, but he refuses to be judged by anyone who breaks into his house. He swivels, hands up to... do something deadly, but it’s only Derek watching him warily from the doorway. “What the hell is with your family and creeping up on me?” Stiles demands, hand pressing down over his hammering heart. 

“You left the door open,” Derek says. He pushes the door shut and sniffs as he takes another step towards Stiles. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, fine. Just reached my daily dose of near heart attacks.” Stiles lets Derek take his wrist and pull him closer, and decides that Laura’s threat slash warning isn’t going to put him off kissing his insanely hot boyfriend. Especially when she was acting so weirdly friendly by the end of it. And if the thought of whoever hurt Derek before makes him hug a little harder than he would normally, Derek doesn’t need to know.


	12. find those lingering voices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek would really like to hang out with his boyfriend, without his sister interfering in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not terribly happy with this chapter, but the next one should be up tomorrow.

Stiles has been jumpy. More so than usual. First, with his sad attempt at home defense when Derek came in, but then Stiles had practically dragged him into a kiss. And when they sat down on the couch -- Derek had put his arm over Stiles’ shoulders, and Stiles had jumped like he’d been electrocuted. Which had not been the response Derek had been aiming for. Now they’re halfway through Encino Man, and the most Stiles has said was an offhand comment about Brendan Fraser’s hair. 

“Are you okay?” he finally ventures. 

Stiles twitches guiltily. “Yes?”

“Do you want me to go?” Derek asks, because he can’t think of another reason for how Stiles is acting. Yesterday he’d been texting Derek about making out on his couch, and today he’s acting like he’d rather cut off his arm than touch Derek again. 

“What, no! Why would I want you to leave?” 

At least Stiles is actually looking at Derek now, he thinks as he shrugs, eyes cutting back to the movie. He can feel Stiles’ gaze on him still. “You seem... distracted.” 

“Derek...no, dude, I am so free of distractions.” Stiles leans forward, bracing his hand on Derek’s knee to look him in the eye. “I shut off my cell phone! We are watching a movie I’ve seen a million times! That is how not distracted I am, right now.” 

“You seem nervous,” Derek says carefully. Stiles heart rate ticks up another notch and he licks his lips. Then Stiles slides his hand over Derek’s shoulder and leans in, slow enough that Derek could get away without hurting him, pulling him into a hug. Derek’s eyebrows fly up. With his nose buried in Stiles’ shoulder, he can smell something vaguely familiar on Stiles. When they kissed before, Derek was distracted. Besides, Derek knows he smells a little like Laura, too, with as much as she bums around the house. But this is definitely Stiles. He jerks back, confused.

“Did you see Laura today?” Derek asks. Judging by the confused look Stiles is giving him, he realizes that it may have been a strange question. But before he can try and come up with an explanation that doesn’t involve the words ‘werewolf’ or ‘scentl’, Stiles’ whole posture just deflates. He glances away, drawing back against the far arm of the couch.

“I’m not - okay! Fine! Your sister dragged me out to lunch the other day to threaten me or something. I told her your old girlfriends are none of my business, and I think we’re cool now?” Stiles stops to take a deep breath, and finally looks back over at Derek. “Derek?”

"I’m fine," Derek manages to say. He thinks he might start hyperventilating. Its probably not the best reaction to the knowledge that his sister has completely betrayed his trust, but he supposes, with the small, cynical part of his brain that isn’t too busy being shocked and enraged, that it’s better than lashing out at Stiles. Who is staring at Derek in concern and probably some curiosity as well. Thankfully years of therapy have made him excellent at faking ‘okay’.

He manages a smile, but Stiles doesn’t look convinced. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, I just --”

“Let me guess, need to go talk to Laura?” Stiles says shrewdly, and laughs when Derek looks surprised. “You looked fairly murderous there, dude, but if you really need to go it’s cool. We can hang out later.” He looks curious, but he doesn’t push, which Derek appreciates. 

“See you tomorrow?” Derek says instead, and Stiles nods. 

“I’m sorry about--”

“It’s not -- it’s not your fault,” Derek says, trying not to choke on the words, and because Stiles still looks like he has a thousand questions he wants to ask, adds, “I’ll call you later.”

“Duh,” Stiles says, and Derek is just grateful that he must have decided to let it go. He’s smiling - a dimmer version of his usual grin, but it still makes Derek stop to kiss him before he leaves. 

 

It doesn’t take long to find Laura. He knows she had an early shift, and that she’s taking her turn working with Jeremy and Amy on control in the woods. The car slides into a space next to her Camaro and Derek is out of the car and racing to the clearing in the woods without even turning it off. Everyone at the house probably heard him, but he’s focused on finding Laura. He’s not entirely sure what he’ll do when he does. Laura will hear him coming, and sure enough, the kids are perched in a tree, watching avidly as Derek bursts into the clearing. He thinks distantly that this is the first time they've ever seen him shifted, but Laura's voice draws his attention before he can rein himself in. 

“Thanks, kid,” Laura is saying and he can hear Stiles’ indignant reply on the other end of the line. The sound of his voice is enough to make Derek pause, but Laura hangs up and decides to try staring Derek down.

If Derek was less angry, he might have rolled his eyes. Maybe Laura will be the Alpha someday, but she’s just a pack mate right now. A meddling, too-sure-of-herself pack mate who betrayed his trust.

“Calm down,” she tells him, and Derek snarls. “Stiles called me. Probably just after you left. Because he was worried you might try to kill me, if you looked anything like you look now.” Maybe blind rage is too strong of word to describe what a reasonable reaction to that statement should be, but Derek is not feeling particularly reasonable.

“I am going to kill you,” he retorts, then he attacks.

Laura has always been faster, enjoyed fighting more than Derek. But Derek knows how she fights, and he dodges her first punch and kicks her into a tree. She lets out a pained groan as she slides to the ground, but she’s up in a second, looking more annoyed than hurt or angry. Distantly he can hear the kids scrambling out of the clearing, yelling, while Derek is circling Laura warily.

“I didn’t-“ she starts and Derek loses patience and rushes her again. There’s a flare of pain in his shoulder, and he’s on the ground, Laura’s knee in the small of his back, while she wrenches one arm back. Another starburst of agony lights up his vision when he tries to slash at her with his free hand.

“Stay away from him,” Derek grits out, words barely decipherable between the pain and his fangs being ground in the dirt.

Laura lets out a huff of annoyance, relaxing her hold just enough for Derek to roll, getting in one good hit before she pins him again, this time choking off his air and pinning his arms against his sides with her legs.

“I didn’t tell him about Kate,” Laura hisses. “So calm down.”

“You did,” Derek insists, his voice catching in his throat. Stiles wasn’t lying when he said that Laura had told him about Derek’s past.

“Derek, listen to me. No. I. Didn’t. I told him that someone hurt you a long time ago, and that he better not do the same. That’s it.”

Even through the haze of anger over his senses, he knows she’s telling the truth. He goes limp, suddenly exhausted.

“Are you gonna try and kill me if I let you up?” Laura sighs when Derek shakes his head, and lets him loose. He rolls over and stares blindly at the canopy of trees. 

“You have leaves in your hair, Derek.” Laura sounds concerned though, instead of derisive, so Derek stays quiet while she brushes said leaves away. “I wouldn’t tell him about her, but maybe you should.”

They sit in silence for a few moments, before Laura adds, “On the plus side, he basically told me to go fuck myself when I gave him my standard big sister speech, so it looks like you’ve got a keeper!”

“Ugh,” Derek groans, but he’s back in control of himself now. Which, of course, is when the embarrassment hits. He hasn’t lost it like that since high school, and now it happens over a stupid misunderstanding. In front of Stiles. Laura glances over at Derek and bursts out laughing and Derek throws a handle of leaves at her and gets to his feet. His face is hot. But at least his fangs and claws are gone.

“Don’t worry about it, bro. People get stupid when they’re in love.” 

“Shut up.”

“Awww, baby Derek is in wuuuuv.” 

“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” Derek tells her, rolling to his feet. He pulls his jacket back on, ignoring Laura laughing behind him. As he’s marching back to his car, he hears Laura say,

“I bet the twins have told the whole pack by now. They’ll have your wedding planned by supper.” 

“Good bye forever,” Derek yells as he slides back into the driver seat, just to make sure everyone hears, and whimpers when a chorus of laughter comes from the house.


	13. the latest changes to the book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles just wants to make sure his boyfriend isn't going to prison, okay?

By the time six o’clock rolls around, Stiles is getting antsy. Derek hasn’t called him, and whatever, but for all he knows, Derek killed Laura and left her body in a ditch. He tried playing WoW with Scott, but Scott was distracted by telling Stiles every detail of his and Allison’s make up date. Finally Stiles logged off with the excuse of needing to start dinner, and _no, you aren’t invited, Scott_. 

And now he’s staring into the depths of the refrigerator. Waiting.

“Trying to cool the house down?”

“Motherf -- “ Stiles jumps and hits his head on the door of the fridge. His dad laughs as Stiles slams the door shut. “What is up with today?” Stiles complains, rubbing his head. “I swear I’m going deaf.”

“Sounds like. You missed a couple messages on your phone.” Stiles yelps and dives for the phone in his dad’s hand. Missed call, then a text from Laura saying, _I’m alive :) Call Derek, he’s having a breakdown_ , followed closely by, _I’m fine, just call me when you aren’t busy_ , from Derek.

“I have to --” Stiles says gesturing at his phone, and his dad rolls his eyes and laughs.

“Yes, fine. I think I can handle spaghetti.”

“Awesome, like, ten minutes max,” Stiles promises, and races up the stairs.

Derek’s contact picture in his phone is one Stiles took when Derek was still pouting about his lack of bowling skills, and it reminds him that Derek probably still hasn’t seen what Stiles updated his own contact to. Boyfriend’s prerogative, or at least that what he’ll tell Derek if he argues. 

“I was seriously starting to think you killed your sister and had to flee the country. I would’ve been pissed if I had to find a new boyfriend,” Stiles says as soon as Derek answers.

“No, we’re good,” Derek says with a surprised laugh.

“Good. I don’t date murderers, just FYI.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Derek says, and Stiles imagines that he’s rolling his eyes.

“Also I’m seriously considering changing Laura’s contact name to something more appropriate like ‘life ruiner’. I was promised couch make outs and no making out took place.” He winces when Derek doesn’t say anything. “Joke, joke, sorry, I know my face does like half of my comedic work for me, so-”

“No, you’re right. Pencil me in for a half hour of making out, tomorrow at 4:30.” Derek sounds completely serious, and Stiles gapes for a long moment until he hears Derek snort and Stiles laughs. Derek’s jokes definitely leave something to be desired, but he’ll give him points for effort. 

“Oh my god, you, you are ridiculous,” Stiles says as he slumps onto his bed. “Seriously though, I thought you were gonna Hulk out when I told you. So... if you want to talk about it... or don’t want to talk about, either way! Just let me know.” 

“I don’t really... talk about it. But I’ll let you know,” Derek finally says and Stiles tries to keep his sigh of relief as quiet as possible. 

“Okay, good.” Stiles fidgets with his covers for a moment before he remembers, “Hey, when I called Laura yesterday, she told me I have a mandatory dinner at yours tomorrow night. There may have been a slight threat of bodily harm implied, but I’m sure she was joking,” Stiles adds quickly when he hears Derek make a sound reminiscent of a growl. Though he’s never before heard a growl he found adorable, so maybe not actually that similar. He knows the face that goes along with that noise, and says, “You can stop with the angry serial killer eyebrows, dude.” Stiles has seen them, and when Derek snorts he knows he’s right. 

“I don’t have serial killer eyebrows,” he protests anyways.

“Suuuure. Anyways, you’ll be there to protect me next time I see her,” he says, grinning, and Derek laughs like he can hear it. “Just remember, I don’t date convicts, and even if I did, I definitely don’t do conjugal visits.”

“Fine. Laura can live.”

“Awesome. Hey, do you mind if I put on my resume ‘can repress killer instinct with my irresistible charm’?”

“...I’m hanging up now.”

“Hey, you’re supposed to say something sappy before you get off the phone,” Stiles protests, mainly just to see if Derek actually has anything that would qualify in his vocabulary. “This is a rule. Especially when you’ve just started dating,” he adds, when Derek is quiet for too long. If the payoff is going to be good, Stiles can be patient. 

“I’m pretty sure you’re making that up.” 

“Okay, okay, don’t hurt yourself. See you tomorrow,” Stiles says and hangs up before he inadvertently discovers if Derek can actually die of embarrassment.

When he looks up, his dad is watching him from the doorway with an unreadable expression. 

“What’s up?” Stiles asks, rolling off the bed and tucking his phone back in his pocket. 

His dad shrugs and smiles. “I can’t find the hamburger.”

“That’s because we’re using ground turkey,” Stiles informs him, and pretends not to see his dad’s grimace. He follows him back downstairs, adding, “Also, I’m going to Derek’s for dinner tomorrow, so you’ll be on your own.” 

“I think I’ll survive. Are you having dinner with his family already?” 

Stiles can hear judging in his dad’s tone, but he’s not sure if it’s towards him or the Hales, and he doesn’t actually want to know. Besides, “Laura made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.” 

“Ah. And how’d your lunch date go?” his dad asks as he fills up a pot with water from the sink. Stiles shrugs, brandishing the ground turkey from the fridge. 

“Eh, you know. ‘If you hurt him, I’ll hurt you’. That’s what older siblings usually say, right?”

“Sounds like pretty standard fare,” his dad says neutrally. He sets the pot on the stove and takes the turkey from Stiles. “Sit down, I have this. You’re supposed to be on break, right?”

“Yeah...” Stiles says, flopping into one of the kitchen chairs. “Except Derek kind of... freaked out a little bit, when I told him. And Laura said something about someone he trusted hurting him.” Stiles props his head up with his hand and sighs. “So I don’t know what’s up with that.”

His dad just shrugs, not even turning away from the skillet to answer. “Sorry kiddo, I couldn’t tell you.” 

There’s only the sound of sizzling meat on the stove for a long time. But something about the ways he said it makes Stiles’ pause. “Can’t tell, or don’t know?” he asks finally, because he’s never been one to leave an angle unexplored. 

“Can’t, won’t. Not my story to tell,” his dad says after a long pause. “If Derek wants to talk about it, he’ll tell you. And don’t bother him about it, either.” 

“Dad,” Stiles says, feeling indignant, “I do have some tact, you know.” 

His dad looks over his shoulder to smile at him. “Yeah. I’m still not sure where you got that from.”

It’s... nice, that his dad apparently thinks he has tact. But now Stiles will feel extra guilty if he tries to look it up. And from his dad’s look, he knows it.

“Well played, old man,” Stiles mutters and slouches down in his chair while his dad laughs. Whatever, Stiles has had his share of crazy exes, so he’s sure he can handle it.


	14. more than i thought you'd be

When Derek knocks, he hears Stiles curse. The sheriff’s measured tread approaches the door slowly and when he pulls open the door, he invites Derek in with a wry smile. “Stiles is still getting ready.” 

“Should I wait down here?” Derek says, just as Stiles shouts down, “Derek!” Derek can hear his heartbeat going double time, but he looks to the sheriff before he moves.

“Go ahead, he’s all yours,” he says with a touch of the same sly humor that Derek sees in Stiles. Derek tries not to think too hard about that casual statement, nodding at the sheriff and following the sound of Stiles’ cursing to his room. He’s never actually been up here before and takes a second to look around at the posters and photos on the wall, and snorting when he gets to the tissues on the headboard of Stiles’ bed. Stiles rounds on him, wild eyed. 

“Hey,” is all Derek can get out, before Stiles pins him with a panicked stare, a shirt held aloft in each hand. Stiles’ dad comes up behind them and leans against the open door.

“He’s been like this for the last two hours,” the sheriff says and grins when Stiles gives him a dirty look. 

“Excuse me for wanting to make a good impression,” Stiles snaps, then brandishes the shirts again. “Which one?”

“Uh... the left?” Derek says, even though he can’t actually tell any difference between the two of them. 

“Okay. Okay, good, then let’s go,” Stiles says, nodding to himself before yanking the shirt on and racing down the stairs. Derek looks at the sheriff with what’s probably an extremely confused expression, but he just shrugs and follows Stiles - albeit at a slower pace.

“Have a good night, boys,” the sheriff says when Derek joins them on the porch. 

“Good night, sir,” Derek manages, before Stiles drags him to his car. 

 

The drive over is nearly silent, except when Stiles cracks a nervous joke about picking him up so he couldn’t escape Derek’s crazy family. Derek just shrugs guiltily, because, yeah, that was half the reason and he’s feeling more sure about that decision -- if nothing else -- the closer they get to his house. But apparently Derek’s trepidation makes Stiles contrary his way into feeling more confident than he had originally been, and by the time they pull in next to his mom’s car, Stiles is as calm as Derek has ever seen him. 

“They’ll love me, dude. I’m awesome,” he tells Derek reassuringly, and Derek manages to nod as he peels his white knuckled grip from the steering wheel. 

As soon as they walk in, Meghan practically launches herself down the stairs, chattering a mile a minute about everything Derek has supposedly told his family about Stiles. Half of which are complete lies. Or she’s been going through his text messages again. When she tells Stiles, “Derek didn’t say you were so handsome,” in a terrible overdone movie heroine voice, Derek groans and tries very hard not to give in to his impulse to duct tape Meghan’s mouth shut. 

“Why thank you, miss,” Stiles says easily, like he’s accosted by overly talkative children all the time. Derek looks over in time to see Stiles fighting to keep a straight face. “And what’s your name?”

“Meghan,” she returns promptly. “Come with me,” Meghan continues, holding her hand out imperiously. Stiles glances over at Derek, who shrugs. Might as well get it over with. 

And because Stiles is ridiculous, he says, “Lead on, fair lady,” and lets Meghan drag him away.

Derek is half a second from following when Mark comes up behind him and tries to push him towards the kitchen. 

“What?” Derek hisses, shoving Mark away. He can hear Meghan saying, “This is Stiles,” and he can just picture Meghan abandoning him to jump onto Uncle Peter. Hopefully Stiles doesn’t get stage fright because he’s pretty sure his parents have half the family over for this dinner. 

Then he’s distracted by Mark, still trying to manhandle him through the kitchen. Derek twists out of his grip in time to hear Stiles say, “Nice to meet you all,” and then “Hey, Isaac. Didn’t we go to high school together?” before Mark gets him a chokehold. He’s laughing in Derek’s ear as Derek struggles to either get away, or at least hear what’s going on. 

“He’ll be fine, Gram wants to see you,” Mark tells him, and Derek stills.

“Now?” Derek groans. He knows that Stiles can take care of himself, and Laura is in the other room with the rest of the family. But Laura has a strange sense of humor at the best of times. Even if she claims to like Stiles, it doesn’t mean she won’t throw him to the wolves. So to speak.

Before he can complain more, he hears their mother clearing her throat pointedly. His heart starts hammering in his chest, and from Mark’s smirk, he knows that Gram will definitely hear it.

“I’m going, get off me,” Derek hisses and Mark lets him go. Derek shoves him before he darts into the dining room. Gram is sitting at the head of the table, and Derek’s mom is sitting to her right.

“Hey, kiddo,” his mom says, grinning, and Derek crosses his arms and tries to work up a smile. “It sounds like your boyfriend is a hit with the kids, at least.”

He shrugs and tries to tune out Stiles’ heartbeat to pay attention, stomach churning nervously.

“Does he know?” Gram asks, tapping her finger on the table. 

“No! I wouldn’t tell-” Derek starts, frantic, because this is the reason he didn’t give more than a token protest about this dinner in the first place. He knows he’s terrible at judging people and their motivations. He has four years of therapy plus the nightmares to prove it. 

“Calm down, I’m not accusing you. Are you planning on asking for permission to tell him?”

“I... no? I mean, we’ve only been dating for like two weeks. Plus he’s going back to school at the end of the month.” Derek shrugs again, keeping his eyes pinned to the plate in front of his grandmother and trying not to hunch his shoulders. “It’s a little early for that, right?”

“And you’re scared,” she adds, and Derek doesn’t try to deny it. It’s true. 

“Mother,” Derek’s mom says admonishingly, and his Gram smiles.

“Sorry, dear. Well, let me know if you decide you’re ready, and we’ll have Alan test the waters, so to speak.”

Derek finds Doctor Deaton creepy, personally, but his Gram finds him useful, and, in her words ‘charmingly evasive’, so he just nods, unable to help glancing at the door when he hears Stiles’ heartbeat spike. Gram just gives him this vaguely amused but fond look and shoos him out.

His mom follows him out, saying, “Dinner’s ready. And I want to meet Stiles as well,” when Derek raises his eyebrows at her.

“Why couldn’t we have had this meeting before Stiles got here?” he grumbles, and she cuffs him lightly.

“The rest of the family wouldn’t have a chance to meet him with you hovering around,” she tells him. He can hear Stiles chatting with Tom about working on his university newspaper while the twins occasionally interrupt to ask questions about BHMS.

When Derek stops in the doorway, Stiles is saying, “Homeschooling sounds pretty cool, actually,” to Amy, who seems to have attached herself to his side. His mom brushes past him to greet Stiles, and Stiles grins up at her and stands to shake her hand. Seeing how Stiles fits in with his family almost makes him stumble, and he’s surprised at the longing he feels. He wants this. Wants Stiles with him, teasing the kids and joking with his cousins and then going home with Derek. 

“Dinner’s ready,” he manages to choke out. His mother gives him a knowing look as the kids stampede past him, and Stiles hangs back waiting until everyone else has cleared the room before he sidles up to Derek.

“Your family is pretty awesome. But there is no way I’m going to be able to remember all those names,” he says quietly, and Derek tries to smile while he holds in a groan. If his whole family wasn’t two rooms away -- well. Derek’s pretty sure he would never hear the end of it if he kept Stiles in the living room to kiss the hell out of him, even though he really, really wants to. Hopefully everyone has enough tact to pretend they can’t hear everything Stiles is saying. 

“They’re something,” he says instead, and he smirks when Stiles elbows him and takes his hand to lead him into the dining room, ready to meet the knowing looks from the werewolf contingent of the family.


	15. hold on hope

Derek drives Stiles home after dinner, which was... less of a disaster than Stiles was expecting. The dinner. Not the driving. He gets out of the car, but doesn’t close the door. Feeling brave, he says, “My dad’s on night shift, want to come in?” 

Apparently Derek does. He turns off the car and follows him into the house and that’s pretty much the end of Stiles’ courage because Derek is kind of intimidatingly hot, especially since they’ve only kissed for real that one time. They’ve cuddled on the couch though, so Stiles decides to stick with familiar ground for now. They can work up to the couch makeouts. 

Of course, the first thing Stiles thinks of once they’re both ensconced under a blanket with a bowl of popcorn and a black and white movie on AMC is that they won’t be able to do this next month, when Stiles is back in school. And he’s pretty terrible at keeping things like that to himself once he’s thought them, so he ends up blurting it out five minutes into the movie. 

“Hey, so I’m going back to school soon,” he says, and Derek freezes with his glass halfway to his mouth. When he tilts his head over, Stiles just looks at him, waiting for some kind of response. Stiles still only has about a sixty percent success rate at reading Derek’s expressions, but Derek just looks blank. 

And, okay, they’ve only been doing this dating thing for like two weeks, but Stiles would still like some kind of reaction. Preferably one that involved Derek being upset about the prospect of being Stiles-less for weeks on end. Stiles fidgets with his sleeves, fighting the urge to cross his arms. His smile feels pretty forced by now and Derek still hasn’t moved, except to set down his drink. And yeah, he knows Derek isn’t a huge talker, but Stiles needs something to work with. 

“Okay?” Derek says.

Stiles’ can feel his smile faltering. “I guess I just thought I would let you know,” he says. Though he was hoping for something more along the lines of ‘oh, no, I’ll miss you terribly.’ Not, ‘ _okay_ ’, question mark, like Derek doesn’t even know why Stiles would think he should care.

“I knew. I talked to Erica about it a couple weeks ago,” Derek adds. Which, thanks, dude, just dig the knife a little deeper. Maybe twist while you’re there. 

“Ah.” Stiles taps his fingers on his thigh, then sighs and rubs at his hair roughly. “Okay. So what, is this just over after I go back to school?”

Derek opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He looks kind of confused now, like he doesn’t get why Stiles is radiating anger like he’s the freaking sun. Before Stiles can do -- something, like kick Derek’s dumb butt out of his house, he feels the blanket being tugged away. 

“If you want to try...” Derek trails off and looks down like he’s surprised to find his fingers twisting the blanket. He shakes his head and looks up at Stiles with his unfairly huge eyes before he continues, “We could visit. I don’t mind driving.” He looks so pathetic that Stiles can’t even be angry. Especially since Derek is apparently _not_ breaking up with Stiles. Derek’s eyes open even further when Stiles doesn’t respond right away and Derek practically trips over his tongue to say, “I would understand if you don’t, I hear that long distance relationships are-”

“Yeah, no, we should try,” Stiles interrupts, and he can’t help from grinning and edging closer to Derek. Derek, who totally wants to try a ‘long distance relationship’ with him. Obviously his facial expression recognition re: Derek needs more work. “Definitely.”

“Are you sure?” comes out of Derek’s mouth, and Stiles kind of wants to hit him, because he apparently likes to make his life harder than it needs to be. He scoffs, and then before he can think better of it, throws the blanket off and practically flings himself across the couch. Derek’s hand comes up automatically to stop Stiles from toppling off while Stiles scowls down at him. Or he tries to. The corners of his mouth keep twitching upwards, and he’s pretty sure it’s destroying his stern visage. 

“Oh my god, Derek,” Stiles says, because seriously, Derek is ridiculous, and he needs to know the extreme degree his ridiculousness has reached. “I’ve had a crush on you since I was ten! I want you, okay? Anyway I can freaking have you.”

“You didn’t even know who I was,” Derek says, brows furrowed in confusion, like he’s remembering every minute of the hugging thing with unwanted clarity, and yeah, okay, Stiles hadn’t recognized him then.

“Dude, do you remember your sixteen year old self? You were cute, but not all,” Stiles tells him and finally just gestures at Derek trying to convey something like ‘seriously, puberty did you well,’ but Derek just looks more confused, with added frowning as Stiles continues, “And I hadn’t seen you for like five years, give me a break!”

“I wasn’t... I wasn’t cute,” Derek says finally, helplessly, after Stiles has patiently waited for at least thirty seconds for some kind of response. Stiles sort of laughs and groans at the same time.

“That’s what you got out of this?” he says, and he knows he sounds incredulous but, seriously? But he’s can’t stop grinning, barrelling on before Derek can come up with any response beyond a shrug. “Trust me, alright? I wouldn’t have let your sister threaten me, or done the whole dinner with my dad, and with your family if I didn’t want to try. I don’t have a lot of experience with the whole long distance thing, but I think probably visiting a lot would be good,” Stiles says, growing more confident as he continues, and Derek nods, looking a little overwhelmed. But definitely happy. “Phone calls, texting. Do you have Skype?”

Derek nods, and Stiles actually rubs his hands together, even though it makes Derek look at him like he’s crazy. A good crazy, hopefully. 

“I’m putting this on Facebook,” Stiles tells him seriously, because mostly everyone he cares about already knows, and also he’s been anticipating this moment for like five years. He adds, “And I’m telling everyone you’re my boyfriend. Just so you know.” 

“Okay,” Derek says. And then he raises his eyebrows when Stiles pulls away and leans over to grab his phone off the table. Stiles is waiting with his fingers hovering over the buttons just in case Derek wants to change his mind, and Derek says “Wait, right now?” all incredulity.

“Uh, yeah?” Stiles says, and then, “hey!” when Derek plucks the phone out of his hands and throws it across the room. Stiles has to look to make sure it lands on something soft -- his dad’s chair, before he turns back to Derek. And abruptly remembers that he’s basically straddling Derek on the couch. His face goes hot.

“Stiles,” Derek groans, “You’re going to make my life difficult, aren’t you.” Like it’s not even a question.

“Hey, I’m totally improving your life!” Stiles has to protest, because as much as he’d like to get the celebratory kissing, he can’t let that go. “Now you have an awesome boyfriend that your family loves, _and_ you’re like, a million times better at hugging. Pretty sure that was all me, buddy.”

Derek doesn’t argue, which is basically an agreement. And he’s staring super intensely at Stiles now. Well, at his lips, at least. He tugs Stiles forward to kiss him, which is definitely agreement, and Stiles gets to be smug forever because he makes Derek let out amazing noises even when he can’t stop grinning long enough to really kiss him back properly. When Derek slides his hand up under Stiles’ shirt to grip his waist and Stiles lets out a moan, the shape of Derek’s smug grin against his lips doesn’t even bother him. Stiles just takes his bottom lip between his teeth in retaliation, biting down until Derek stops smirking and gets back to kissing. 

They should probably talk more, later, about the whole long distance thing, and whatever that thing was about his ex that made him go crazy on Laura. So Stiles can make sure that history doesn’t get repeated. More immediately, Stiles thinks as Derek nudges his head back and goes to town on his neck, he should really check if Derek always leaves what he suspects will be a huge mark, or if this is just a one time thing. Either way, he’s going to have to invest in a scarf. And maybe try and talk Derek into getting his own place with a couch to make out on. Otherwise there will be a lot of scandalized parents in their future. 

“I can hear you thinking,” Derek tells him, lips brushing against Stiles’ neck. 

“It’s kind of my thing,” Stiles says, because it’s not like he can turn it off. “Sorry.”

“I like it, most of the time,” Derek says, matter-of-fact, and Stiles bites his cheek to hold back a grin. Derek’s being refreshingly forthcoming, and also Stiles tries not to look gift compliments in the mouth. Or something. “And you have. What you said before,” he finally manages to get out, then drags Stiles in for another kiss before he even gets a chance to enjoy Derek’s blush. 

Whatever, Stiles thinks as he slides a hand into Derek’s hair and opens his mouth obligingly to Derek’s tongue. They’ve got plenty of time.


End file.
